Winged Poem by Melanie Emikohe
Winged
Oftentimes,
you make me a wing
so I could heave up high
and attempt to dream;
but not enough to fly
because like a boy's
cherished summer kite,
you pull from a string
so you can keep hold
and keep track
where I'm going...
Afraid that I'd soar
too far or too high
where you can't reach me,
you made me wings
just for your fancy.
mmmm Possessive lover. I guess. That way both wont drift. Still I see the point of beauty of freedom. Lovely again. Hope
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 1:35:38 AM # 1.0.0.1119
once the string is broken the kite can never go up-it will plunge in some pond or river or stick to some tree or lose its way.on the other way lack of freedom is choking.....anyway some condition of life is expressed in beautiful words...